~ Theatre, Feminism & Poetry.

Crayons and Chaos

LYDIA runs in. She wears a floral dress with a big yellow bow in her hair and pink sparkle shoes. She’s played by an adult actress, but the character is about four years old.

There are three cafe tables. Her pregnant mother, Regan follows her out with much needed coffee in hand, and sits down at the stage left table with her back to the audience.

LYDIA sees where her mother chooses to sit. She sprints to the stage right table, climbing on top of it.

LYDIA: NO, I don’t want to sit THERE. I WANT TO SIT HERE.

She drapes herself in different shapes over the cafe table.

LYDIA: I WANT TO SIT HERE!

REGAN nods. Tries to enjoy her coffee.

LYDIA starts squirming in her seat, flinging herself from position to position.

REGAN: (Finally, exasperated, walks over with her bag.) What do you need?

LYDIA: (Digs through the bag, finds a box of crayons) I need these crayons opened.

REGAN: (Trying to show her how to do it.) I bet you can open these easily.

LYDIA: No, I don’t want that pack, I want THAT PACK! (Points to a ziplock bag of crayons elsewhere in the bag.)

REGAN: Is that how you ask?

LYDIA ignores her. REGAN sighs, opens the box and gives it to her, along with a coloring book. REGAN returns to the stage left table. LYDIA sits down, back to the audience and starts to color vigorously. After a while.

LYDIA: The elephant’s name is BackTron. (No response. Long beat. Then, out of the blue.) MAMA. MAMA. MAMA! (beat) Are we going somewhere to PLAY?

LYDIA: We will make them eat brussel sprouts and they will fart a lot and die!

REGAN: (stifling laughter) Excellent idea, my queen!

LYDIA: Prepare the brussel sprouts!

REGAN: (deftly mimes making brussel sprouts over an imaginary stove top) They are ready, my liege.

LYDIA: (whispering in normal voice) Now we load them into our guns and they’re the bullets.

REGAN: (normal whisper back) Right.

They both mime loading their pistols with brussel sprouts.

LYDIA: (back to pirate voice) They’re pretty squishy!

REGAN: (a la pirate) Ready. Aim. FIRE!

They dramatically act out shooting the enemy (the audience) with brussel sprouts, reloading their guns when necessary.

REGAN stops, hold her pregnant belly.

REGAN: (normal voice) Oh!

LYDIA: (concerned) What is it, mommy?

REGAN: It’s ok, Lydia, she’s just kicking.

LYDIA: (perplexed) Who is?

REGAN: Your little sister. We talked about this. Do you want to feel her kick?

LYDIA reluctantly nods, goes over and puts her hand on her mother’s belly. She feels the baby kick.

LYDIA: (wonderment) Wow. (she looks up at REGAN) She’s strong.

REGAN: (getting teary) Yes, yes, she is. You are too, Lydia, you are strong. We’re all strong.

LYDIA: Mommy, I want you to sit down and watch me show how I strong I am to you.

She leads REGAN by the hand to the center table. REGAN sits, facing the audience.

LYDIA: You are my mommy and that makes you the best mommy. (Kissing her on the cheek) I love you.

REGAN: I love you, too.

LYDIA: Ok, now WATCH ME!

REGAN does, smiling.

LYDIA performs an elaborate ballet-inspired dance. After the first few seconds, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Waltz starts to swell. LYDIA continues to dance more and more feverishly, every move an extension of her entire body and being. This goes on for at least a whole minute.

When she finishes, the music continues and she runs to REGAN, bowing fervently. And then she crawls up beside her and lays her head on her shoulder. The music fades slowly.